


Don't Draw the Blinds

by ghostofnoodlewrap



Series: Vaguely interconnected fics where Jon and Martin are kinky [9]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Filming, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Sex Club, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofnoodlewrap/pseuds/ghostofnoodlewrap
Summary: Jon sometimes makes jokes about being a professional voyeur. But Martin is well aware that, in private, Jon is far more interested in being the one watched.(Reading previous parts of the series is not needed, but welcome)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Vaguely interconnected fics where Jon and Martin are kinky [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808656
Comments: 128
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the exhibitionism/voyeurism fic that's long overdue. There are a few OCs in the later chapters of this one (and will be in a couple of later fics in the series) as I've run into the whole 'exhibitionism requires an audience' (and in later works 'two people does not an orgy make') issue. As this series is intended to up canon compliant up until the end of season four, I can't just use a TMA character and pretend Jon/Martin have never met them. (but I could re-write this way if people would prefer?)
> 
> Feminine terminology is used for Jon's genitalia.
> 
> CW for chapter 1:  
> -Sex while drunk. Both Martin and Jon are drunk.  
> -Outdoor sex (in an alley)  
> -Dirty talk angling towards exhibitionism (surprise!)  
> -Slut shaming as dirty talk

Martin is not drunk, thank-you-very-much. He tells Jon as much.

“You know, you’ve told me that twice since we started walking home, love.” Jon says.

“Repetition builds emphasis.” Martin says, so seriously that he can’t help but burst out laughing after he’s said it.

“Sure.” Jon nods. “You had more than me, didn’t you? And I’m drunk.”

Jon started on wine. Martin started on beer and polished off Jon’s bottle before picking him out a second one. Then they proceeded to finish that together. Neither of them drink that much regularly.

“I’m bigger than you.” Martin says.

“Uh-huh.” Jon says. “You are. I like it.”

The way Jon sort of walks into him then is probably not accidental. It could be, what with the way Jon isn’t walking in an exactly straight line, but his smirk betrays him. He catches himself on Martin’s bicep and gives the muscle a squeeze.

“You’re so strong.” Jon says. “You could just hold me down and…”

“Jesus, Jon, wait until we get home.”

Come to think of it, Martin doesn’t think he’s seen Jon quite this far gone in a while, if ever. Certainly not since they got together. Who would have thought he’d be a handsy horny drunk? And, well, Martin might insist that he’s not drunk, but he’s certainly had enough to lower his inhibitions.

But God, it seems like the journey back is twice as long as the one it took to get here! They walked, and it’s not far enough to justify a taxi even if it is dark. It’s not a bad area.

“We don’t have to wait until we get home.” Jon says.

“We’re in public!” Martin hisses.

“I know.” Jon says. “Come on.”

Jon loops his arm through Martin’s and he pulls. Martin could resist, but he doesn’t. He lets Jon lead him and Jon ends dragging him into an alley.

It’s a back alley, narrow enough that a car probably couldn’t get through it. Especially not with the two large bins here - filled mostly with cardboard. They’re between a Dorathy Perkins and a cosmetics shop Martin didn’t catch the name of, so at least it doesn’t stink of rotting food. The shadows are deep, like the street-lights know better than to shine down here, lest they disturb illicit lovers.

Jon presses him up against one of the brick walls. He has to lean up, on tiptoes, to reach Martin’s mouth. Jon leans in close, pressing his warm body into Martin, and Martin’s back into the cold stone behind him.

He can taste the wine on Jon’s breath, just like Jon can probably feel the ghost of grapes on his. Martin threads his hands into Jon’s hair. He finds the hair elastic in it and slowly pulls it out. Jon’s hair is silky enough that it goes without any tugging.

Jon’s hands aren’t anywhere near as shy. They’re a little cold as they worm their way under Martin’s jumper and shirt and up his side. Then chilly fingers find his nipples.

Martin gasps into Jon’s open mouth. Then Jon’s mouth is gone from his and he’s pulling at the side of Martin’s collar so that he can mouth at Martin’s neck. His teeth come down a little harder as he starts to suck a mark into Martin’s skin.

It leaves a hand of Jon’s free, and that comes to Martin’s crotch, where it coaxes from stirring to ready to go.

“Jesus, Jon.” Martin says. “Where is this heading?”

“I was planning on blowing you.” Jon says.

“Fucking hell.” Martin whispers. “Right here in the open?”

“It’s not exactly _open_.” Jon says.

Deft hands have undone Martin’s trousers, and now Jon’s cupping him directly. He pushes Martin’s trousers down to his thighs and pulls his cock out through the slit in his boxers. Then he gives it a few strokes before he drops to his knees.

“Anyone could walk by.” Martin points out.

“I know.” Jon replies. “It excites me. Does it excite you too?”

Martin doesn’t have time to answer, because Jon doesn’t give it to him. He mouths softly at the head of Martin’s cock before he begins to suck it down. Not all the way, mind - there is a time and a place for deepthroating and that is when sober and not out in public.

“Christ, Jon.” Martin says.

He tentatively twists his hands into Jon’s hair, unsure if Jon’s happy to let him use that as a handhold. But Jon places his hands over Martin’s and encourages him to move his head.

“Couldn’t even wait for us to get home?” Martin says. “Or maybe you prefer it like this? Where anyone could catch us.”

This shouldn’t turn him on this much. The moan Jon makes at those comments shouldn’t feel this good. Martin should be anxious over the prospect of being caught, not aroused.

Jon pulls off for a moment. “God that would be-”

Martin pushes his head back down. “Did I say you could take your mouth off me? Get back to work, slut. You can have your mouth back when I’m finished, and that’s assuming some other bloke hasn’t spotted and waited for his turn.”

Jon’s nails are like pinpricks where his fingers clench at Martin through his jeans. He doesn’t try to pull off again to comment, but Martin can feel his moans around his cock. It is a particularly lovely sensation.

“That’s it, slut. I’m getting close now.” Martin says. “I bet if someone walked up and said ‘me next’ you wouldn’t even hesitate. You’d probably let them fuck you too, the right little slut you are. They might even pay you for the privilege. What do you think of that?”

Jon’s eyes screw up tightly and he takes Martin as deep as he can without opening up his throat. Martin grunts and he empties himself into Jon’s waiting mouth. He has to encourage Jon’s mouth off his cock after that (there is such thing as being overeager), and the other man just kneels there, head resting on Martin’s thigh for a moment as Martin tucks himself back away.

“Okay?” Martin asks.

Jon laughs slightly. “Yes.” He says. “I’m really… yeah, yes.”

“Did that, uh, affect you?” Martin asks.

“A little.” Jon says. Martin helps him back to his feet. “Not really enough to make it worth doing anything about.”

“Are you sure?” Martin asks, because he doesn’t mind returning the favour.

“Pretty sure. It’s cold and my knees are wet. If you’re still in the mood, ask me again when we get home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> -Discussion of the scene from the previous chapter, including the fact it took place outdoors, and both of them were drunk.  
> -Kink negotiation surrounding exhibitionism.  
> -Martin and Jon entertain the possibility that their exhibitionism kink is a result of the Eye. They decide not to dwell on or think too hard about that.  
> -Discussion of bringing more people into their sex life, either as voyeurs or as active participants. (Discussion only in this chapter)  
> -Sex scene with considerable amounts of exhibitionism themed dirty talk, including Martin slut-shaming Jon.  
> -Brief dysphoria mention - Jon is not binding, but is not comfortable removing his shirt.   
> -Martin brings up the idea filming Jon midway through the sex scene. It was not discussed beforehand, but Jon consents.  
> -Jon tells Martin not to use a condom. Martin comes inside Jon (with permission). There is later discussion of how Jon doesn't really like it afterwards, but no panic attack this time.

Martin is spared the brunt of his hangover, mostly by the fact he downed a large glass of water after Jon fell asleep almost as soon as they got home. Jon, on the other hand, woke up early, groaned loud enough to wake up Martin too, and spent quite a while in the bathroom before stumbling back to bed looking like he was still asleep.

He then proceeded to stay unconscious for another couple of hours. Longer than Martin slept, anyway. Martin leaves him a glass of water and a couple of pills for when he wakes up and sets about on the quieter portion of the chores that need doing.

Jon eventually emerges around mid-morning, still looking a little bleary eyed.

“Morning, love.” Martin says (because it is morning for the next twenty minutes or so). “I left you some paracetamol. Did you find it?”

“I did.” Jon says.

“Did you drink the water too?” Martin asks, because he knows Jon is liable to take the pills dry, possibly chewing them like a fucking pyshco, if he’s left to his own volition.

Jon is silent for a moment. “Maybe?” He says. “I also maybe got sidetracked by the need to brush my teeth and wash the taste of death out of my mouth?”

Martin sighs, and he grabs a clean glass to fill and pass to Jon. “Drink.” He says earnestly. “Be honest, how bad is the hangover?”

“Not bad at all really. I feel like I’m twenty two again.” Jon says between sips. “I’m not sure if I’m actually hungover or if I’m experiencing mild symptoms because I feel like I should. I mean, if I can heal pretty much instantaneously from trying to cut my own finger off…”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think either of us has had so much as a mild cold in the last couple of months.” Martin says.

Jon shudders. “I am not liking the direction of this conversation.”

“Should I change the subject?” Martin asks and Jon shrugs. “How about last night.”

“Last night?”

“Last night when you couldn’t wait until we got home and proceeded to drag me into an alleyway and blow me? That last night?”

“Oh, I-”

“I know you were drunk.” Martin says. “And I was a bit drunk too. And sometimes we do things we don’t mean to do when we’re drunk. But more often, I find we do things we’re too repressed to do when sober.”

Jon stares down the water remaining in his glass like if he can glare at it hard enough it might turn into something to give him some liquid courage. Martin suspects that’s not a power under the Eye’s roster, but that might need some experimentation.

“And?” Jon says.

“And voyeurism. Is that a thing for you?” Martin says.

“Exhibitionism.” Jon says. “Voyeurism is when you watch other people. Exhibitionism is when you’re the one being watched. I’m a voyeur in… well in a very different way, I think you’ll find.”

“Exhibitionism, then.” Martin says. “I think we’ve touched upon it before, but we’ve never actually sat down and had a conversation about it.”

“I guess now is as good a time as any.” Jon says. “I’ve never done something like last night before.”

“Like outside?” Martin asks.

“Yes.” Jon says. “What about you?”

Martin thinks. There have been times where he and a partner have found a mostly private spot to kiss, maybe even neck a little. But nothing ever happened that could have got them arrested for indecent exposure. Not that he hasn’t thought about it.

“Not really.” Martin says. “I thought about it a few times, back when I had a partner and neither of us lived alone. I couldn’t exactly bring a boy back when my mum was there.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the audience this sort of kink goes for.” Jon says dryly.

Martin shudders, because yeesh. Mum and his sex life? Yeah, those are two things he’s glad never got mixed up. “Ew.” Martin says.

“Sorry.” Jon replies. “Last night didn’t come from nowhere, but we’ve never really done that before.”

“Haven’t we?” Martin asks. He can remember a few things he’s said in the heat of the moment that were definitely along the lines of this kink.

“No?” Jon says.

“Really?” Martin says. “I’m pretty sure our dirty talk has strayed towards people watching us. You in particular. And you told me I could post your nudes online.”

“Oh.” Jon says, like it’s a revelation. Maybe it is. “That is indeed a thing. I don’t know if the Eye...”

“I really don’t want to think of this in terms of the Eye.” Martin says. “Safe to say we’re both into the idea of other people watching us, and not dwell on whether we might have been into that before… Well, you know.”

“What about…” Jon pauses, licks his lips. He looks a little nervous. “What about other people joining in?”

Martin can tell from the way Jon says it that it’s certainly a thing that Jon is into. Whether that’s just in theory, as a hypothetical or fodder for dirty talk, or actually in practice is another matter. He certainly looks nervous about bringing it up, like Martin might get mad at the idea.

“As dirty talk, that’s fine.” Martin says. “In reality is a whole long conversation. There’s a lot of nuance between getting someone to watch us one time and a totally open relationship.”

“I’m not really sure what I want.” Jon says. “I don’t want it to change us. I just like the idea of - I don’t even know how to put it? Many people lusting after me?”

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” Martin says, although he’s sort of dying to, “although I will say finding someone to actually watch us isn’t off the cards for me. We can stick to dirty talk and the thrill of getting caught for now.”

“Do you want to?” Jon asks. “Now?”

“Oh.” Martin says. “Are you in the mood?”

These types of talks don’t tend to affect Jon in quite the same way they sometimes do Martin. At least they don’t when they’re sat on opposite sides of the table playing a game of footsie that even primary school children wouldn’t find inappropriate. Other times they’ve had kink negotiation with Jon in Martin’s lap, with Martin rubbing idly at the bare patches of Jon’s skin. That did turn out with Jon all squirmy for fun reasons.

“That talk didn’t turn me on much, but I got sort of worked up last night and then passed out as soon as we got home.” Jon says. “Shouldn’t be hard to get me going again.”

“You want to, then?” Martin asks.

“Sure. Bedroom?” Jon says.

“Unless you want me to take you outside and round the back of the building?” Martin teases. Or at least he thinks it’s just a tease…

“Tempting, but it’s raining. And the bins smell.” Jon says.

“I guess the bed is more comfortable too.” Martin says. “But we’re leaving the bedroom door open. That’s practically an invitation.”

“You think?” Jon says. He manages to get his sweats off before they’re even in the bedroom. His underwear follows just the other side of the threshold.

“I think anyone could stand there and just watch us. We might not even notice.” Martin says. He does not mention the locked front door which will (hopefully) keep any potential intruders out. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, then the rest of his clothes come off in quick succession. “Or maybe we would. Maybe we’d give them a show.”

Martin watches as Jon bites at his lower lip. The other man stays standing while Martin climbs onto the bed.

“Are you coming?” Martin asks.

“Yes.” Jon says. “It’s a shirt on kind of a day, if that’s okay?”

“You know that’s always okay.” Martin says. Jon isn’t flat this morning, because Martin did manage to wrestle him out of his binder before he passed out last night.

“No deliberate touching, okay?” Jon says.

“Deliberate touching?” Martin queries.

“With your hands. Or mouth.” Jon says. “Chest to chest or hugging should be okay.”

“Anywhere else you don’t want to be touched?” Martin asks.

“I don’t think so.” Jon replies. “I need some warming up before you fuck me though.”

“That’s okay, I am more than happy to oblige.” Martin says. “Now are you coming here, or do I have to get under the covers to keep from getting cold?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Jon says, and Martin ends up with a lapful of Jonathan Sims.

Martin could probably think of another quip, but Jon’s right there in his lap and ready to be kissed, so Martin goes for that option instead. Despite everything, it’s quite a sweet kiss. Martin accentuates the slow brush of their tongues over each other by stroking up and down Jon’s back slowly.

When they break for air, there’s a slight flush to Jon’s face. Instead of going back for his lips, Martin slides his mouth over Jon’s jaw, and then down onto his throat. Jon bends his neck accordingly to give Martin more room to work.

There’s no point trying to earnestly mark Jon up, because the bruises slide off him like water. But there’s still plenty of nerves there to feel Martin’s mouth and tongue and teeth. Jon groans when Martin licks over the faint scar left by Daisy’s knife. He shuffles himself forward in Martin’s lap until his cunt is pressed up against Martin’s cock.

Martin brings his hands down to Jon’s hips and encourages the lazy rolls he’s making against Martin’s cock.

“Such a good slut.” Martin whispers into Jon’s ear.

“What?” Jon says. 

“Barely anything and I’ve got you humping me, begging for my cock. And that’s not even mentioning the way you dress.” Martin says.

“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” Jon says.

“I guess that shirt does _technically_ cover you.” Martin says. “Until you bend over, at least. Do you go outside wearing that?”

Martin knows the answer is ‘yes.’ Only ever in the context of Jon also wearing some sort of trousers. But the question didn’t say that.

“Yes.” Jon says.

“I’m sure you find yourself dropping a lot of things. A lot more than you usually would.” Martin says. “Do you know why?”

“Because I know I’ll flash people when I bend over to pick it back up. I’ll show everyone my greedy little cunt.”

“Why do you do that?” Martin asks. He has to push Jon away at that point, or he’s liable to make a mess far more quickly than he wants to. Instead, he gets a yelp out of Jon as he pushes him down into the mattress and slips a hand between his legs.

“Because I want them to see how much of a slut I am.” Jon says. “Because I think it might make them want to fuck me.”

Jon is not as wet as Martin might otherwise expect from him, even though his clit is nicely erect. That happens sometimes - a side effect of T, Jon has said. It doesn’t mean he isn’t enjoying himself. Martin rubs his fingers around Jon’s entrance and considers penetrating him, but he doesn’t actually want to hurt his lover.

“Lube?” Martin asks.

“Yes please.” Jon says.

It would be easy for Martin to lube up his own fingers and piston them into Jon hard and fast. It would be easy to slick up his cock and take Jon to pieces like that too. But instead, once he’s fished out a lube bottle that isn’t mostly empty, Martin passes it off to Jon.

‘Touch yourself.” Martin says

“Like…” Jon’s hand drifts downwards to rub at his clit. He pauses for a moment, withdrawing his hand and Martin’s about to growl at him to continue when he realises Jon’s just taking a moment to apply some lube. Then he slides a couple of fingers into himself.

“That’s a good slut.” Martin says, and Jon moans. “You know, if you mewl loud enough, a passer-by might notice. I didn’t think you wanted to get caught, but maybe you’re hoping they’ll join in?”

“Martin…” Jon says.

“You want the whole world to see you like this?” Martin says. “You want everyone to know how much of a whore you are?”

Jon laughs a little, but it comes out all shaky. “I do wish you’d taken me round the back now.” He says.

“That desperate to be seen?” Martin says. “To be caught?”

“Uh-huh.” Jon says. He twists his hand to get his thumb on his clit and his leg jerks in response.

“There’s a way.” Martin says. “I could…” He pauses and shakes his head, mulling the idea. “I could film it.”

It’s not the sort of thing to be brought up in the middle of a scene without prior negotiation, Martin knows. But they have done it before - Jon even let him upload the photos and he knows Jon sometimes checks to see how many likes they have.

And it’s not like it’s a livestream. Jon can choose later on whether he just wants Martin to delete the photos from his phone and it could be like it never happened.

“I think…” Jon says, but he breaks off into a gasp. “I think I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Martin says.

“Yes.”

Martin retrieves his phone. It’s maybe two thirds of the way charged, so the battery should hold up for this. He shoulders his way in between Jon’s legs so that he’s got a good view.

“I’m about to start, babe.” Martin says. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with it, so try not to use anyone’s names and I’ll make sure your face isn’t in it.”

Jon nods. He’s stopped touching himself, his right hand just neatly framing his slit. Waiting for Martin. Waiting for the camera.

Martin presses the record button. He knows the little noise it makes alerts Jon that the camera is rolling, but it takes a moment or two before Jon’s hand slides down and he captures his clit between two knuckles.

Martin swallows the sudden gush of saliva in his mouth. “The camera’s on, are you going to behave yourself?” Martin asks.

“Yes.” Jon says. It comes out sounding breathless.

“What are you doing then?” Martin says. “I don’t think good boys touch themselves like that.”

“I- ah, I can’t help it.” Jon says.

“You can’t?” Martin says. “Or you won’t? I think you just want everyone to see you.”

Jon twists at that, his hips moving apparently of their own volition. He stops trying to brace with his free hand and uses it to finger his cunt again.

“You’re such a slut.” Martin tells him. “Putting on such a show because you want to get fucked.”

“Please Ma-” He can hear Jon bite back his name. “Please fuck me.”

“You don’t even care if it’s me, do you?” Martin says. “You’d take attention from anyone right now. I could bring a complete stranger in here and you’d just spread your legs.”

“God, please, I-” Jon gasps. Martin can tell he’s close. His thighs are trembling. “ _Please_. I want cock. I want your cock.”

“Do you think you deserve it, whore?” Martin asks.

That’s all it takes. Jon throws his head back and wails. Martin sits there and watches him, desperate to wrap a hand around his cock and bring himself off. But he knows a little patience goes a long way and if he can hold off he can take Jon properly.

Martin waits until Jon sags down to stop the recording. He tosses his phone onto the other side of the bed.

“So, if I upload that, how many people do you think are going to see you beg to get fucked?” Martin asks. “A hundred? A thousand?”

“Jesus, Martin, I _just_ came.” Jon says. 

“Can you manage another one?” Martin asks.

“Get in me.” Jon says.

“Let me just grab a condom.” Martin says. 

Jon shakes his head. “In me.” He says, spreading his legs a little wider. “Now.”

Martin doesn’t wait to be told twice. Jon is exquisitely warm on the inside, tight enough to be pleasant, but not so much that there’s any difficulty in pushing into him. It’s better without a condom. Or at least it will be until Martin has to pull out to come. Wearing a condom is a welcoming burden for the privilege of being able to come inside his boyfriend.

Jon hooks his legs up and around Martin’s waist, clinging on so tightly it honestly impedes Martin’s ability to thrust a bit. Makes wiggling his hand between their bodies to find Jon’s clit a bit difficult too, but Martin manages that.

He rolls his hips into Jon softly, not pulling out much because Jon isn’t really letting him. Martin continues like this until Jon starts murmuring “faster, please, faster.”

“Begging for more already?” Martin teases.

“Shut up and give it to me!” Jon says.

Martin laughs, but he gives it his all, rutting into Jon with all his might. Jon appears to be appreciative, because he clamps down hard almost immediately. There’s sweat beading at his hairline which catches the light as his head tosses.

“Good?” Martin asks.

“Mmm…” Jon says. He pulls Martin down against him until his face is in kissing range, but doesn’t appear to have the coordination to find his lips. Martin solves that problem. “I’m close.” Jon whispers into Martin’s ear when the kiss ends.

Martin knows better than to let that excite him too much - he knows Jon wants it exactly as he’s been given now. No faster. No harder. It’s still hard not to do it though.

He leaves his hand in place for Jon to grind his clit into. It’s easier than trying to jerk him off and there’s no one better than Jon himself to know exactly what pressure and angle he wants. And it’s not like he can keep his hips still. 

And right on schedule, Jon comes. He whines a little, clenching down hard on Martin. Martin was expecting it, but it’s still a shock. Memory never lives up to the sensation of Jon coming on his cock.

In fact, it’s a little _too_ good.

“Fuck, Jon, I gotta…” Martin says.

“No.” Jon says as Martin valiantly tries to pull out. “In me.”

“Are you sure?” Martin asks. If he’s not, Jon will need to work it out very quickly because there’s no way Martin’s going to be able to hold on.

“Come in me, sweetheart.” Jon says.

It’s the permission he needs. And, at this point, Martin couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.

Even if he wanted to pull out (and he doesn’t) there’s no way he’d manage it in time after that. He’s deep-seated when his hips still and he comes, deep inside Jon’s cunt. He pulls out slowly, but nothing much drips out as he does. Probably nothing much will until Jon stands up and gravity takes its course.

“More?” Martin asks. Most of the time Jon is up for more than this.

But he shakes his head. “I’m too tired for another one.” He says.

“Do you want to watch the video I took?” Martin asks.

“Not right now.” Jon says. “Maybe this evening. I have a feeling it might get you riled up again.”

Martin snorts. “You think?”

“Just a hunch.” Jon says. “It will probably be fine, but I want to vet it before you put it up online. If you still want to do that?”

“I don’t mind.” Martin says. “It’s your body, so I think your opinion holds a lot more weight than mine.”

“Thank you.” Jon says. He kisses Martin once, just briefly.

“Also, that scene was very hot and I love you a lot.” Martin says.

“I love you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Martin asks. “Oh - you’ll probably want to wash first after-”

“After you painted my cunt with your baby batter?” Jon says.

“Eww…” Martin says. “Yes. But, in fairness, you did literally ask me too. Are you okay, I know you don’t always like it?”

“I’m fine.” Jon replies. “I’d just rather get clean sooner rather than later. But I’m hungry too.”

“Do you want company in the shower?” Martin asks.

Jon pauses for a moment, looking conflicted. Which probably means he doesn’t want to be alone, but conversely doesn’t want Martin around while he does whatever ablutions he feels are necessary.

“Not sure?” Martin asks, and Jon nods. “How about I make some finger food while you shower - chopped fruit or something - and then you relax in the bath while I feed it to you. With a shirt on if that makes you comfortable.”

“You don’t think that’s silly?” Jon asks, because you don’t _bathe_ in _clothes_ , but…

“If it’s to make you happy, I don’t think it can be.” Martin says. “Okay?”

“Okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> -Jon/Martin + female voyeur  
> -Unplanned scene in front of a window with someone else also in front of a window across the street. Everyone has the ability to stop watching/being watched at any point, but, well, it's in the title.  
> -Unplanned scene if very undernegotiated compared to the rest of the series.  
> -Jon Knowing about the woman watching them (who is otherwise a stranger)  
> -Yet more of Martin's dirty mouth.  
> -The voyeur takes photos (with permission granted through gestures)

“So,” Martin asks when they break for air, “do you want to take this to bed?”

“Is the living room not serviceable?” Jon teases.

“Hmm, let’s see.” Martin says. “The bedroom has the bed, which is nice and comfortable to fuck on.” He plants a quick kiss against Jon’s neck. “And all of the toys are in there, if that takes your fancy.” He slides his hands down the back of Jon’s pajama bottoms. There is nothing beneath. “And the lube and condoms are in there too. What’s the living room got to offer besides…”

“Besides this large window?” Jon says.

It’s already dark outside, but the curtains aren’t drawn. Below, the street isn’t all that busy, although the sky is as clear as it gets in the city and it isn’t that late yet. The street lights cast everything in a sodium-yelloworange haze.

“Do you want me to take you here? Right where anyone could see in?” Martin asks.

Jon is silent for a moment, but Martin can tell it’s just from embarrassment. Anyway, ‘anyone’ is a bit of exaggeration. They’re high enough up that you’d need exactly the right angle to see them from the street.

“Answer me, Jon.” Martin says. “Answer me or I’m just going to do it anyway.”

“Please.” Jon says softly.

“Right up against the window?” Martin asks.

He walks Jon back as he speaks. It’s a big window - probably made the place a little more on the pricey side. Would do even more so if it looked out onto a decent view, but it just shows the other side of the street. There are lights on in the building opposite - another block of flats.

Jon goes easily, until Martin’s not quite pressing him into the glass. Until they’re probably nicely framed by the window if you were looking at them from the other side. Then he kisses Jon.

Jon accepts the kiss, sweet and submissive against Martin. In fact, his body goes almost slack, slumping down Martin’s body like molten glass right until the point when Martin shimmies a thigh up between Jon’s legs to support him - and for _other_ reasons too.

He starts grinding onto Martin’s proffered thigh as soon as it’s offered. Martin slides his hands up under Jon’s sleeping shirt in search of warm skin as the other man begins to attack his throat.

“Can I touch?” Martin asks, knowing Jon will understand what he means.

“Please.” Jon says. “I want you to make me feel good. I want everyone to see you make me feel good.”

Martin indulges his hands in feeling out the softness of Jon’s chest. The smaller man whines against Martin’s skin as his nipples are pinched.

“You're so hot for it even with the _idea_ that someone _might_ be watching.” Martin says. 

“It’s not just an idea.” Jon says

“What?”

“Across the road.” Jon says, and his voice takes on that timbre it gets when he’s pulling on a thread of knowledge that doesn’t originate in his head. “Her name is Indy. Indy Elspet. She’s a photography student, she was just getting a good shot of the street when she noticed us. The zoom on her camera is good, not that she really needs it. She knows she should turn away, this is private and she shouldn’t be watching. But she wants to. And she can’t bring herself to draw the blinds.”

“That’s-” Martin begins, but Jon cuts him off.

“I didn’t Know, it hadn’t started, when we did. When we started kissing, that is. And she’s still able to disengage if she wanted to.”

“But she doesn’t want to.” Martin says.

“No.” Jon says. “She could if she wanted to. We could if we wanted to.”

“Do you want her to watch us?” Martin asks.

Martin can understand her wanting to watch. He’d want to watch one Jonathan Sims get taken to pieces. He’s not so much into the idea as he is into how much Jon is into it. How far it gets him worked up.

“Is that alright with you?” Jon asks.

“It is. Do you want me to fuck you? Right here where she can watch?” Martin says. He leans in close, so that his breath tickles damp on Jon’s ear. He leans in close, so that Jon can feel the hard length of him, ready and waiting. Then he withdraws. Leaves Jon waiting. He has to tell Martin how much he wants this.

“I do. Please.” Jon says.

“Then brace yourself on the window for me, love.” Martin says.

The window will need cleaning after this, Martin knows. Jon’s already leaving handprints on the glass and there’s a little patch that’s fogging up close to where his mouth is.

Martin comes up behind Jon. He looks out across the street, looking for the window with a figure in it - and there. Right across the street. A perfect view. Martin wonders if she’s getting as much out of this as Jon inevitably will.

He doesn’t know if he should be able to see that clearly all the way across the street and into another building. But he can. A woman younger than them, dark-haired with a camera in her lowered hands. Martin even thinks he sees the shock in her eyes as he slides his hand into the front of Jon’s pajama bottoms.

But she doesn’t leave.

Jon isn’t as wet as Martin expects when his fingers skate across Jon’s entrance. But then again, he’s barely been touched. Martin rolls his thumb against Jon’s clit again and again until that changes and he’s moaning.

“Wave to her.” Martin instructs.

“What?” Jon says.

“Wave to her.” Martin says. “Let her know you know she’s watching. Let her know that she’s welcome to it. To seeing your body. Let her know that you’re a dirty slut who gets off on complete strangers watching him have sex.”

“ _Fuck_.” Jon says. “I’m getting close. Can you finger me too?”

This time, Martin finds Jon sopping. Two fingers slip in easily. Martin doesn’t have the angle to get them nice and deep, but Jon would probably swat at him if there wasn’t any pressure on his clit.

Jon lifts his arm and waves.

Martin watches from over Jon’s shoulder. Indy startles, actually looking round to see if there’s someone behind her. Martin can’t really see clearly enough, but he can imagine and superimpose the look of surprise when she realises this show is for her.

It must affect Jon a whole lot more than it does Martin, because he shudders and Martin feels him clench rhythmically as he comes. He doesn’t let up the movement of his hand, because he knows Jon can take it. Afterall, this is only his first orgasm.

When Jon’s back to rolling his hips down onto Martin’s hand, Martin gives him his next command: “Flash her.”

Jon needs no further urging.

He lifts his own shirt, even gives a little shimmy when it’s up and out of the way. Then there’s a little pause before Jon lets it drop again. His eyebrows waggle in the reflection Martin can see in the glass. Martin can’t quite make it out from where he is, but Jon has better eyes so he probably knows if-

“Did she just flash you back?” Martin asks.

“Yes.” Jon says. “Now she’s lifting her camera slowly. She’s wondering if it would be crossing a line to take more photos.”

“If you want her to, you have to let her know.” Martin says. “Wave, or give her a thumbs up or something.”

Whatever Jon does must get the message across, because she lifts the camera up and starts taking photos. There’s no flash on, at least not one that’s visible, but Martin supposes they’re well back-lit. It’s not like she wants outside detail much anyway.

And even with a zoom as good as the one she’s apparently got, it’s unlikely to get enough details to make the two of them recognisable.

Martin busies himself with the removal of Jon’s clothes. He goes slowly, slow enough that Indy can get her shots. He starts by pulling Jon’s top off.Then there’s a little break where he fondles Jon’s chest for a few minutes before stripping down to his own underwear.

Then the only item of clothing they have between them is Jon’s pajama bottoms. They’re thin enough that Martin could probably rip them, but as fond as Jon is of literally having his clothes ripped off, he’s also pretty fond of these pajamas in general. So he probably wouldn’t appreciate their destruction.

Instead Martin just slides them off. And then they’re bare.

Martin gives himself a couple of strokes, just to make sure he’s properly hard. Then he nudges his way into Jon. It’s an easy slide. And he’ll never get over how warm and wet Jon is on the inside.

It’s not going to be easy on Martin’s knees to do this. Jon isn’t as tall as he is and he has to stoop a little to get the angle right. Sure, technically he could lift Jon and solve the height problem, but he’s pretty sure Jon’s enjoying having his front pressed up against the glass. And if Martin does really push him into the window, he runs the risk of pushing him through the window, and that’s not the best way for this to end, even if the fall would be unlikely to actually kill them.

Jon’s breath comes in these raggard little gasps and he ruts himself back down on Martin’s cock. Martin reaches a hand back around Jon’s waist, and then further down. As expected, he finds Jon hard and desperate for it.

“She’s touching herself.” Jon says.

“Is she?” Martin peers over Jon’s shoulder. It’s difficult to see, all blurry, but it does look like her hand is down her pants.

“Yes, I-”

“Look at you,” Martin says, “she’s so aroused by the sight of you that she has to touch herself. You did that to her.”

“Oh _fuck_.” Jon says, and then he’s coming on Martin’s cock.

“Do you need a minute?” Martin asks afterwards.

“Don’t stop.” Jon says. “Please don’t stop.”

Well, Jon didn’t specify ‘don’t stop fucking me’ or ‘don’t stop playing with my clit,’ so Martin happily carries on with both. Unfortunately, his stamina is not unending, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s rounding the edge of his own orgasm.

“Where do you want me to come?” Martin asks.

“Pull out.” Jon instructs.

Martin does, although scarcely in time. It splatters onto the window and, yeah, that’s not going to be fun to clean up later.

“More?” Martin asks, giving Jon’s clit a bit of a squeeze.

“I could handle more.” Jon says. “How generous are you feeling?”

“As generous as you like, of course.” Martin murmurs. “Is it my mouth you want?”

“Yes.” Jon says.

Martin drops to his knees. Then there’s an awkward shuffle as they rearrange, Martin crawling through Jon’s legs so he can get at his boyfriend’s cunt from the front. Sure, he could do Jon from behind, but sucking on his clit is the far more manageable method of making him come.

He licks from cunt to clit. There’s a certain tang to Jon that he enjoys, and while Martin might have the opportunity to go back later and properly clean Jon up (before getting him all messy again with a tongue fucking), he knows Jon’s body. He knows that Jon is worked up enough now that that would only be a tease. So Martin seals his lips around Jon’s clit instead.

Martin mouths at it a couple of times, until Jon moans. Then he breaks away. “Keep talking.” He says. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“She’s still taking photos.” Jon says. Martin rewards him with a couple of fingers. “They’re a little shaky now that she’s only got one hand. But she’s so - oh, right there - she’s so turned on she can’t help it.”

“Who’s going to come first?” Martin asks.

“Her if you keep taking your mouth off me!”

Martin can take a hint.

“She’s sad it’s only an AirBnB. She’d like to have neighbours like us in real life. She’d always be looking towards the window, just in case. We’re good enough for repeat performances. And -oh fuck, I think she’s coming. I think - _Martin_! Don’t stop, don’t stop please. I’m going to - _ah_! Fuuuuuck.”

Whether or not the woman - Indy - comes, Martin can’t be sure of. Jon on the other hand…

Well that was fairly textbook for him. And hard.

“Too much.” Jon says afterwards. He pushes Martin’s hand away. “I can’t take another one after that.” He slides to the floor to join Martin.

Martin turns to look across the street. Indy apparently recognises the show is over, with the two of them collapsed on the floor. Martin gives her a wave, and gets one in return before she draws the curtains.

“Satisfied?” Martin asks.

“Immensely.” Jon says. He looks up on the smears they’ve left on the window, the splatter of Martin’s come, barely thick enough to drip down. “But really Martin, _on_ the window?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> -Kink negotiation  
> -Discussion regarding going to a sex club

“So I was right in thinking that being watched by a stranger is very much a _thing_ for you then?” Martin says.

Jon stiffens slightly and Martin’s knows he’s hit the nail on the head. It’s slipped into dirty talk before, but what happened earlier is the only step they’ve ever made to doing something about it. Martin is well aware that sometimes the reality of a fantasy doesn’t live up to what goes on inside your head.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Jon says dryly.

Martin risks a glance over to the window. The one he pinned Jon up against earlier. He’s already wiped off his spunk (eugh), but there needs to be some extensive work with the glass cleaner to get read of the smeary handprints Jon left.

“You know, I haven’t the foggiest.” Martin says. “I was thinking about how we might manage it again.”

“Excuse me if I’m wrong, but there seems to be a key piece of the puzzle missing.” Jon says.

He is right. Exhibitionism doesn’t exactly work without an audience. And it’s not quite the same as filming it and putting it online later. For a start, it’s bloody hard work to fuck Jon properly and do some interesting camera-work at the same time.

“We can wait for spontaneity and coincidence if you prefer.” Martin offers. “Or we can put a little work into finding someone who gets their rocks off watching other people have sex.”

“What are you proposing?” Jon asks. “Are we going to become a couple on a dating site trying to pick someone up for a threesome?”

Martin represses a shudder. He’s had forays into online dating, and he’s seen more than a few couples looking for a third. And he’s never been a person interested in joining an established couple for a threesome.

Being bi, Jon’s probably had that a lot worse. If he’s ever used an online dating site. Martin is startled to find he doesn’t know that.

“Honestly, I find that a bit weird. I was thinking more along the lines of a club.” Martin says.

“A club?” Jon says.

“Yeah. Did you not know there were clubs where you like-” Martin says.

“I am aware of the existence of sex clubs!” Jon says. “Or swingers or kink clubs or whatever you call them. I can’t say I’ve ever been to one though.”

“I haven’t either.” Martin admits.

Sure, he’s engaged in kink before, but that’s always been by choice of his partners. He’s never gone out looking for someone else to engage in kink with, Martin’s just had tremendous luck in attracting them.

One of his exes sometimes attended, Martin knows. He offered to take Martin, but that was before Martin learned it cost fifty quid a night and honestly that just seemed like too much. He didn’t have the finances for it, really.

“It’s a little bit scary.” Jon says.

“It’s not scary!” Martin says. Jon gives him a look. “Okay, maybe it’s a bit scary. Should we look anyway?”

“What, just google ‘sex club London’?” Jon says.

“Sure.” Martin says.

Then he tries exactly that.

There are simultaneously both more and less than he expected. In fact, several of the top results are articles along the lines of ‘the top ten sex clubs in London’.

“Huh.” Martin says. “Come sit with me and we can look at them.”

Martin goes over to the sofa and sits down. Jon approaches cautiously, like what’s on the phone might bite him. He should know by now that Martin only bites when asked.

Jon plops himself down beside Martin and curls in under Martin’s arm so he can see the screen. If the position also puts his head on Martin’s chest, well, that’s just a coincidence, isn’t it? Martin scrolls through the options they have but-

“Most of these seem pretty hetero-centric.” Jon says.

“Mmm.” Martin says as he closes the page for yet another club that is open to couples and single women. It doesn’t say ‘straight couples,’ but it’s implied. “We could try gay ones?” Martin suggests.

“Maybe queer ones?” Jon suggests. “Might be more trans friendly.” He reaches for the phone and adds the extra keywords. 

There aren’t as many choices now. A couple get dismissed out of hand - one that’s more set up for bicurious and bisexual women, another that’s clearly more focusses on the sadism and masochism aspects of kink. While they stray into that territory, it’s not like their sex life is totally about pain.

And then they find Pound of Flesh.

Martin isn’t hopeful based on the name alone.

But their website is promising. There are some photos of their empty rooms and some equipment that while not tame, isn’t exactly family friendly. It all looks easy to clean too. They’re advertised as ‘queer-inclusive’ and from the photos it’s pretty obvious they endorse kink. In fact, upon inspection, they also host workshops and education sessions.

“What do you think?” Martin asks. He’s not going to commit to saying yes until Jon voices his opinion.

“It’s got promise. Let’s check the fees.” Jon replies.

Membership turns out to be on application only - they won’t even give out the club’s location until then. But it’s not out of reach of what their wallets can afford - pricey, yes, but hopefully that means they run a tight ship. There’s a door fee too for men, but it’s cheaper than a lot of the other clubs.

Jon clicks into the application folder. It asks the expected - name and age, but there’s also a box for pronouns. They require ID, but the form specifically states that is just to verify applicant’s information and the data collected therefrom is not stored.

“So?” Martin asks.

“It’s a yes.” Jon says. “Probably. I want to think about it for a bit before we fill out applications.”

“Bookmark the page then.” Martin says.

“How do I do that on your phone.” Jon mutters, mostly to himself.

“Oh you just-” Martin pauses, because Jon has just opened the tabs browser instead of the bookmark manager.

Normally that wouldn’t matter, but hidden behind the current tab is a page of engagement rings. Martin can suddenly hear his pulse beating in his ears.

“You can forget you saw that if you want…” Martin says.

“Do you want me to forget about it?” Jon says.

“...Not really? I mean, this isn’t me _asking_ , and I definitely am not expecting an answer right this second. I haven’t even bought one. One of, of _those_ , I mean. So yeah. Input might be nice. On what to get. Whether to get one, I mean. If you don’t want to-”

“I want to marry you.” Jon says.

“You do?” Martin says.

“Yes.” Jon smiles and Martin is too overwhelmed to kiss him, so he just finds one of Jon’s hands and squeezes. Jon squeezes back. “I’m still expecting a proposal - down on one knee, ring and all - but I want to be your husband. I want you to be my husband. I want… I want matching rings.” Jon sounds like he almost surprised himself with the last part.

“You want to get me a ring?” Martin asks with shock.

“I want us to get rings. Engagement rings.” Jon says. “Not necessarily identical, but of a kin.”

“Oh. Well…” Martin stammers a little. “Do you see anything you like?”

“I want something with an inlay.” Jon says. “Engagement rings aren’t meant to be plain, and I’ve always found mounted gems to be more feminine, for some reason? And that’s not me. Or us.”

“Hang on, if I- give my phone here?” Martin requisitions.

Jon hands it over. Martin makes a few toggles on the search bar, moving to a broader category of rings than ones strictly for engagement. After all, Jon didn’t say diamond. Then he toggles the price up. Not to anything insane, just a bit to filter off the tat.

This is a piece of jewelry he wants to wear for the rest of his life and quality metal comes at a cost. It would be horrible to get an engagement ring only for it to tarnish and turn Jon’s skin green after a month of wear.

“I like this sort.” Jon says, pointing to a silver ring with a streak of crushed opal. There are other similar ones with different stones, or even a band of polished wood.

“They come in lots of similar styles and colours, so we can still pick out rings for each other.” Martin says. “What do you think?”

“You were going to bookmark the application form, right?” Jon asks.

“Yes?” Martin says, slightly confused at the off-topic question.

“Bookmark this one too. I think it’s going to take a while for use to come to a decision.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I've never been to a sex club and it's probably going to show. This chapter was more of an exercise in 'if I got to design a sex club, what would it have?'
> 
> CW:  
> -Well, this chapter is basically a guided tour of a sex club  
> -Brief piss kink mention (the club has a wet room to which all such activities are confined)  
> -Discussion of the club's policy on sex work - in short, they are supportive where they can be, but have to operate within the law (so no soliciting) to avoid being shut down.

“So, are you sure we’re not too old for clubbing?” Martin asks with a teasing lilt.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t what most people think of when they think of clubbing.” Jon says.

It’s a discreet place. There is a sign above the door, but it’s not neon or flashing or anything. There’s no line out of the door, or a bouncer, at least on the street. Not like any of the clubs Martin has been to. It is barely late enough to be considered the evening though. Not the time you’d expect an establishment such as this to be busy. They don’t even formally open for around another hour.

“Do you think we need to knock?” Martin asks. There’s no doorbell.

“I can’t imagine we’d need to.” Jon says. He pushes on the door and it opens. “Besides, they’re expecting us and we’re right on time.”

Beyond the door is a short hallway which ends in a flight of stairs. There’s a lift too, but there’s a lock on the doors and a notice that says ‘service or disabled access only.’ There’s a number to call if you need to use it.

The club itself is on the first floor. The stairs continue up, but they’re roped off and there’s a bouncer on the club door who presumably also stops people from going up them.

“You’re early.” The bouncer comments. He’s a big guy with an East end accent and a low voice. He is perhaps twenty years Jon and Martin’s senior and he looks very normal to be working for an establishment such as this. Martin half expected a guy decked out in leather with a hat reminiscent of a police-man’s, but this man wouldn’t look out of place standing guard at any door.

It’s not like Martin’s _nervous_ per se around men built like that. It’s just too many of his childhood bullies grew up to have shoulders and a chin like that. And apparently when you’re the anxious gay kid who dropped out of school to look after his sick mum, you’re fair game off the playground as well as on it.

Jon does not appear to have any such hesitations. “We were told to come at this time.”

“First timers then?” The bouncer says. He glances at his list. “Names?”

“Jon.” Jon says. “And Martin.” 

The website was explicit that last names were very much not expected. They were even able to input full on aliases if they wanted (although the club still needed their real names to compare with IDs to ensure they were of age).

The bouncer nods. “You’re the only ones down for orientation tonight.” He says. Then he turns and shouts behind the door. “Sophie, your newbies are here!”

Sophie turns out to be a woman in her mid-thirties. She’s pretty normal too - dirty blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, glasses, a t-shirt that clearly denotes her as staff. Not the sort of nymphette Martin imagines when he thinks of ‘woman who works for a sex club.’

“Hello, Martin, Jon!” She says. She smiles widely, but not so much that her customer service face could be called American.

“Hi.” Martin says. Jon just nods.

“Please come in,” she says, “have you been to an establishment like ours before?”

“We haven’t,” Jon says, “unless…” He turns to Martin with a brief question in his eyes.

Sure, Martin’s first forays into kink weren’t with Jon. But they never went this far. And he’s never had trouble finding people with similar enough interests to his, so a place like this hasn't been… well, a hunting ground.

“No.” Martin says.

“That’s okay.” Sophie says. “So, I’m going to show you around and explain our rules to you. While your membership fee is non-refundable, you will need to sign a waiver before I can give you your membership cards and let you play tonight.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Jon says.

It does. Martin can imagine that a place like this needs to cover itself legally at every turn to avoid getting sued out of existence. After all, this is a fairly risky business they’re engaging in, and there were far more seedier clubs available if they didn’t want a lot of paperwork.

“Follow me then.” She says.

Behind the door is a short corridor. The lighting is low, but still enough to navigate by, and there’s little in the way of decor. There are four doors, three of which are labelled as ‘male changing room,’ ‘female changing room,’ and ‘mixed changing room’ respectfully. Sophie takes them through the fourth, unlabelled door.

It appears to be the main room of the club - Martin can put together photos from their online site into a single room now. It’s large enough, and not unlike a regular club. There’s a bar on one side, and a wide open space in the middle of the room. There are tables with chairs stacked on top of them around the edges and another employee is setting them all out ready for the club to open.

Sophie takes them over to a table and gestures to a couple of chairs before she herself sits down.

“Now, I’ve already read your files, so I know a little about you.” She says. “Let me tell you about myself so we’re on a bit more equal footing. My name is Sophie, I’m thirty four, I’m bisexual, and I’ve worked here for the last three years.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Martin says.

“Likewise.” Jon adds.

“Okay, since you’re new to this, let me explain how this place works.” She says. “When you first arrive you’ll be asked to present your membership cards and asked to pay entrance fees. Women get in free and cis men are thirty pounds, although you’re both free tonight as first timers.” Sophie turns to Jon. “Providing you are comfortable letting the bouncer know you are trans, you should be let in for free. There will be nothing on your membership card that denotes you as trans, and if you’re ever told to prove it, please let another member of staff know, because that’s simply not cricket.”

“Of course.” Jon says.

“We pride ourself on being very inclusive here, and entrance fees only applying to cis men is standard. That said, if you become enough of a regular, you won’t even be asked about it because the door staff will know you.” She says. “Next up, changing rooms.”

“Is there a dress code?” Martin asks.

“Not as such, although good hygiene is strongly encouraged, not that that appears to be a problem with either of you.” Sophie says. “But clothing is optional throughout the club and some people prefer to wear special clothing such as fetish gear. We have a mixed gender changing room, as well as a male and a female one. All three have lockable lockers, showers, and toilets. We are not responsible for any items left in there, and you are responsible for the keys if you choose to use them, although the bar is happy to hold onto them for you.”

“How big are the lockers?” Jon asks.

“Do you want to see them?”

“Not particularly.” Jon replies. “I guess a changing room is a changing room?”

Sophie nods. “They do look a bit like school locker rooms to be honest. They’re about this big.” She measures out the dimensions with her hands - not huge, but enough to get a backpack into. Big enough for a set of clothes unless you were wearing a particularly voluminous winter coat. “It’s not required to use them, but they are a secure way to store valuables, such as your phones. We don’t allow video or photos to be taken in the building and you will be removed if you’re caught using your phones for those purposes.”

“That’s reasonable.” Martin says, although it does put a damper on the idea of letting someone film Jon.

The idea of filming tonight’s events was something that excited the both of them. Unless Jon decides he’d rather pick someone up and take them home. But then it seems like a bit of a waste to have come here. And they wouldn’t have to let a stranger know where they live. Although they’d hardly be _strangers_ afterwards.

“Good!” She says. “So, we’re in the main room right now. This is where most socialisation takes place, like finding new playmates. While sexual activity is allowed in this room, we encourage you to keep it discrete.”

“How discrete does it need to be?” Martin asks. He can already imagine ducking under one of these tables to take Jon apart with his mouth while Jon tries to have a conversation.

“It shouldn’t demand attention.” She replies. “Off to the side of the room is fine. So is keeping it quiet, or a hand-job under the table. But this isn’t the place to make a spectacle of yourself.”

“So not on top of the table with porn-star moaning?” Jon says with a quirked eyebrow. Martin knows him well enough to know that’s Jon’s idea of a joke. Hopefully Sophie can tell that too.

“No.” Sophie replies. “That’s the sort of thing for one of the other rooms.”

“The bar is dry, right?” Martin asks, jerking his head over towards it.

“Yes, we don’t want anyone playing impaired.” She says. “And if you pre-game and turn up clearly drunk or high, you will be turned away at the door.”

“Good.” Martin says. There’s a picture that comes to mind - some guy four drinks in trying to handle a whip - that frankly makes his gorge rise slightly. And that’s not even bringing up consent issues brought on by inebriation.

“The bar sells soft drinks and snacks.” Sophie says. “And just to the left of it is the rental shop, where you can rent a variety of toys. Most of them are first come first serve, but some of our larger and more popular toys, such as the two sybians we have here, have sign-up sheets.”

“Are we allowed to bring our own toys with us?” Jon asks.

Martin’s glad he asks. The idea of sharing a dildo with an unknown number of strangers is…

Well, it isn’t pleasant. Maybe they’ll avoid that part of the club experience all together. Lord knows Jon has enough dildoes to last a lifetime. He says it’s just because he likes to select the right cock for his strap-on depending on his mood, but Martin suspects it’s more than that.

When he first met Jon, he assumed he Jon collected something standard and boring, like stamps...

“Of course!” She replies. “In fact, we encourage it if you want to play with penetrative toys. We do sanitise all toys between rentals, but any penetration by a club-owned toy must involve the use of a condom, which are provided for free around the club.”

“Where exactly would we find those?” Jon asks.

“The orange bowls.” Sophie replies. She points out a few at the edge of the room. “There are more in the smaller rooms, which I think I should show you next.”

“How many smaller rooms are there?” Martin asks.

“There are four play rooms, ten private rooms, and the quiet room.” Sophie replies. She stands. “If you would follow me?”

Sophie takes them over to one side of the room, then through the door to a corridor. There are - as Martin counts - five doors down each side, and one at the end of the corridor. It almost looks like a hotel. Then Sophie opens the first door on their left and it looks even more like a hotel.

The room beyond is small, with most of the space taken up by a large bed. There’s also a small sink. It looks too impersonal to pass as an actual bedroom. It also looks like exactly what they need if they’re going to find someone to watch them.

“This is one of the private rooms. The four at the end don’t have beds in them, but otherwise they’re all identical, so I’ll just show you the one.” Sophie says. “Obviously, you can’t get lots of people in one of these, so their purpose is for more intimate scenes. All of them lock from the inside, and each room has a panic button by the bed which will alert staff and unlock the door.”

“Can the staff get into these?” Jon asks.

“Yes,” Sophie says. “But we won’t interrupt unless the panic button is pushed or we have another reason to enter, such as a fire alarm or suspicious activity within the room. We also have the wet room down here.”

Jon’s ears perk up at that last bit.

Well then, it’s clear where his priorities lie. And by priorities, Martin means kinks. Then again, it’s not like Martin doesn’t know what Jon enjoys in bed.

“What goes on in there?” Jon asks.

“It varies.” Sophie travels down the hall and opens the door to the wet room for them. “Anything that creates a mess should be done in here.”

It’s almost reminiscent of school showers, Martin finds, although his school showers never had so many eyelets sunk into the tiled walls. The floor is some kind of lino and gently slopes to a central drain midway between the two banks of detachable showerheads on either side of the room.

“Are there things that aren’t allowed in here?” Jon asks.

“None of the soft furnishings, although we do have some towels around.” Sophie answers. “And no non-waterproof toys for obvious reasons.”

“That’s great,” Jon says, “but I was rather more thinking of kinks that might not be allowed.”

God, Martin can already picture the things he could do to Jon in here. Get Jon to do to himself. Would an audience get Jon even more desperate and humiliated than normal? Or maybe they’d make him act out until Martin has no choice but to discipline him?

He can’t know until they try it.

“He has a bit of a piss kink.” Martin clarifies, although ‘a bit’ might be putting it mildly.

“Martin!” Jon says, and Martin does his best to look suitably chastised. Honestly, he should know better than to out Jon’s kinks like that, but then again it would be a red flag if an employee of the club started to kink shame them.

“Actually, all watersports-related acts must take place in here. A stricter cleaning regime is in use in this room.” Sophie says. “No scat, I’m afraid, as it messes with the drains. We haven’t technically banned bloodplay, but very few people are happy to try it with a stranger. What else?” She hums to herself as she thinks.

“I guess anything messy?” Martin suggests.

“In a sense?” She replies. “Nothing solid for a food kink, but body paint and the like. Anything else you’d like to ask about in here?”

“I don’t think so…” Jon says. He’s given the room a good looking round and Martin suspects they’ll be spending a pretty significant amount of time in here. Maybe not tonight, though.

“You said there were several play rooms this size?” Martin says.

“Yes.” Sophie replies. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where the rest are.”

She leads them back into the main room and to another door opposite the one they just came from. It leads to another corridor, identical in length, but this time with only four doors.

“So this is the soft room.” Sophie says, and she opens up the first room. “Everything gets laundered during the day, but deliberate fouling of the furnishings in here is not allowed. Hi Marcus.”

There’s a small ledge of the normal floor, then the room turns into the most stupendously large bed Martin has ever seen. There are pillows and blankets in piles at the edges of the room, and a man - presumably Marcus - is slipping white pillow cases over the pillows.

Marcus gives a wave. “It’s also no shoes on in here.” He says.

There are indeed a pair of shoes neatly placed by the door. The rest of his clothes are on his body and similar to Sophie’s, including the staff T-shirt.

“How many staff members are there working each night?” Jon asks, presumably prompted by the appearance of one of Sophie’s coworkers.

“At least eight,” Sophie says, “not including the bouncers. We have more people on busier nights, but there should be someone covering all of the rooms, so you’ll never be far from help if you need it.”

“All staff members wear a t-shirt like this.” Marcus adds. “Since everyone else tends to be in fetish gear - if they’re wearing clothes at all - that makes us easy to spot.”

“Great.” Jon says.

“To clarify, we don’t join in.” Sophie says.

“At least not when we’re working.” Marcus adds with a wink.

“What do you do?” Martin asks. He could presume the staff here aren’t around to make up numbers, but it would be good to know what they can be counted on to do.

“Whatever needs doing, really.” Sophie says. “Find and set up equipment, make sure there’s a good stock of condoms and lube, and making sure any play is safe and consensual. If anyone gives you a hard time about something, or tries to pressure you into something you don’t want to do, come and find one of us.”

That is more than good to know. All the reviews and discussion of this place did label it as highly inclusive, but Martin’s had enough experience with kink to know there are more than a few people with so-called ‘bad etiquette’ around in the community.

“There’s always one person at an orgy who ends up handing out snacks.” Marcus says. “In a metaphorical sense, that’s us. Here to make sure that all our guests have a good time.”

“That’s great.” Martin says. He looks over to Jon who’s also nodding along. “What’s in the other rooms?”

Sophie herds them out and waves goodbye to Marcus. She closes the door to the soft room and opens two of the remaining doors. One room has blue-painted walls, the other red, both with matching lino floors. They’re empty, but the walls are lined with built-in cupboards, and beams and eyelets run both along the walls and the ceiling.

“The red room and the blue room are generalized play rooms. The cupboards are filled with various bits of furniture and equipment - we’ve actually got more stuff in storage than can be put out.” Sophie says. “We do put some stuff out sometimes, but you’re always welcome to rifle through the cupboards to find something interesting, or ask a staff member if there’s something in particular you want.”

“What if we find something we don’t know how to use?” Jon asks.

“Well, staff will stop you if they feel you’re doing something unsafe, and there’s a good chance one of us could teach you how to use an unfamiliar item. And failing that, another member might also know.” Sophie says. “Actually, we do sometimes host workshops or classes in these rooms - although in that case the other one will be open for free play - so you can always sign up to learn how to use something.”

“What sort of workshops do you have on?” Martin asks.

“It varies, so I’d have to check what’s booked. They tend to be run monday through thursday, as they’re slower than the weekend.” Sophie replies. “We usually have some form of shibari workshop running on a weekly basis if you’re interested, though?”

Martin’s never taken a shibari workshop, and while he’s not sure if Jon has, it’s a fair guess that he hasn’t either. But it’s appealing. They both like restraints and Martin has used rope on Jon before. Learning how to do it properly - prettily even - is very appealing.

“Ropework does sound fun.” Jon says before Martin can say the same thing.

“I can find you a flyer for it - or even the sign-up sheet - later if you’re interested?” Sophie says.

“That would be great.” Martin says, voicing his own enthusiasm.

Jon wrapped in some intricate ropework? That’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. And with all of the little hooks and loops on the walls and ceilings in these rooms, maybe there’s even a chance they can try suspension. Shibari could easily be practiced at home, but Martin’s not sure what their landlord might think of the two of them installing brackets into the ceiling of the spare room.

“Okay.” Sophie says. “Uh, also while we’re in here, if you see a line of cones on the floor, don’t cross them.”

“What kind of cones?” Jon asks.

“Those ones.” Sophie points to a stray yellow cone that’s been left out. It’s the same sort of cheap plastic thing Martin’s school used for markers for P.E. “Sometimes people use them if they don’t want people interacting with them. But they also mark out areas that it’s not safe to stand in when things like whips are being used.”

“Are these rooms big enough for that?” Martin asks. He was under the impression that whips need quite a lot of space to wield, and while the space they’re in isn’t cramped, it certainly is palatial.

“Certainly!” Sophie says. “So long as everyone is aware of where not to stand. So the last room of the tour is the quiet room, which is just down here.”

She ushers Jon and Martin back into the corridor and opens the final door. Beyond it is a smallish room with pale grey walls. There are a couple of benches, similar to the ones that were in the gym at the school Martin attended, and in the centre of the room are several large bean bags.

“This room is set up for aftercare and recovery from any heavy scenes. We also have several first aid kits in here, and usually a supply of ice packs.” Sophie says. 

“Does all aftercare have to happen in here?” Martin asks. It isn’t a huge room. He can imagine how crammed it might get if everyone ends up in here by the end of the night.

“Of course not!” Sophie says. “Plenty of people use the large room, or even the playrooms themselves. This is for more serious aftercare, or for anyone who needs to take a break for a minute. No play is allowed in here, and the walls are fairly soundproof. Staff also check in regularly to see if anyone needs extra help.”

“Are we allowed to bring other stuff in here?” Jon asks.

“Things like food?” Martin adds, because he’s pretty sure that’s where Jon’s mind is going. The aftercare they provide one another often includes food and drink.

“Definitely!” Sophie says. “Most play equipment isn’t allowed, but there’s usually at least water out. And any food or drink bought at the bar can be consumed in here. Now, I think we’ve come to the end of the tour, do you have any more questions?”

“I do not believe so.” Jon says. “You’ve been very thorough.” Martin just shakes his head.

“Great!” Sophie says brightly. “Now, I just need to collect a little paperwork for you. I’ll see you back in the main room, it’s just down the hallway.”

Martin waits for a moment, just until they’re alone. “So, what do you think?” He asks Jon.

“I’m not sure if I’m more nervous or excited.” Jon says.

The backs of their hands brush together, and with a simple twist after that they’re holding hands. Jon’s palm _is_ a little clammy, so Martin gives him an encouraging little squeeze. They walk like that back to the main room and sit at one of the tables.

The room isn’t empty anymore. There’s a couple of occupied tables, and they do get a few looks. Something must mark the two of them out as newcomers. Perhaps that’s why no one approaches.

“You still want to stay?” Martin asks, just to confirm. Jon’s not the sort to run away from something he’s anticipating.

“I do.” Jon replies. “And the shibari class?”

“We can sign up to that.” Martin says. Then he drops his voice low. “I really want to see you wrapped up in those ropes, watch you struggle and-”

“Martin!” Jon cries.

“Sorry, sorry.” Martin says, although he’s not really. “I think I’m just excited. This place opens doorways. There’s all sorts of things we could do that we don’t have the space or resources for, but here…”

“Already making plans, are you?” Jon says.

“I’ll tell you later.” Martin says. “Sophie’s coming back.”

She is indeed, and she slides into the chair opposite Martin and Jon. Then she places a couple of pieces of paper and a pen in front of the both of them.

“One last thing I need to go over before you sign your waivers is our policy on sex work.” Sophie says. “While we like to be supportive of the sex working community, we also have to operate within the law, and both soliciting and pandering are illegal.”

Jon nods along like he can translate the legal jargon.

“Sorry, can you say that in plain English?” Martin asks.

“Yes, so we cannot operate as a brothel, or we’d be shut straight down. And anyone specifically looking to buy or sell sex will be banned, as it can also get us in legal hot water.” Sophie says. “That being said, arrangements made outside of the club are above water. We do what we can to be supportive - all our workshops are run by professionals, and, on the down low, I know several professional doms use our facilities to meet potential new clients, but officially, as a staff member, I know nothing about that.” 

“Great. I understand.” Martin says.

“We’d love to be more supportive of sex workers than we currently are, but the council will take any excuse to shut us down and we benefit more people by staying open.” Sophie says. “If you sign your waivers, I can go ahead and give you your membership cards.”

Martin scans through the waiver. Jon does the same, albeit much faster. It appears to be the same one that was on their website. All things to be expected - no injuries are the club’s fault and all that. Nothing looking too suspicious.

Martin takes the pen and signs. Jon does the same.

“Wonderful.” Sophie says. She hands them each a plastic card not unlike the rewards card Martin has for Tesco, even if the logo is totally different (he also doubts his Tesco clubcard points are transferable). “Welcome to Pound of Flesh, and I hope you enjoy your evening.”

Sophie leaves them be after that. Martin’s thirsty, but not enough to brave getting up and going to the bar. At least not quite yet.

“So, are we doing this?” Martin asks.

“I want to.” Jon says. “Do we need to go over ground rules?”

“I don’t want us to split up.” Martin says. “At least not in a ‘I’m going into this room to see what’s going on and maybe to join in’ kind of way. Not tonight at least.”

“We don’t ever have to do that if you don’t want to.” Jon says.

“You know we’re at a swingers club, right?” Martin says.

“And?” Jon says. “That doesn’t mean we have to go and have sex with strangers. I just fancy one watching us is all.”

“I’m not opposed to sex with strangers. I just want it to be something we do together. Is it weird that I want to cradle your head and stroke your hair while a group of strangers run a train on you?” Martin asks. His voice goes all strangled at the end and he can feel himself blush.

“Okay, now I didn’t even have the option to compel you there.” Jon says with a smirk.

“Shut up!” Martin says.

“It’s a fun idea, I’m up for it. More than up for it.” Jon says. “But I think we should stick to what we had planned already for tonight. Just dip our toes in the water.”

“Okay.” Martin says. “I love you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Jon replies. “Now, I’m parched, so I think it’s about time you bought me a drink.”

“Oh is it?”

“It is.” Jon confirms. “And you know, the bar is a wonderful place to pick up another person.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> -Exhibitionism and voyeurism. Who would have guessed?  
> -Jon and Martin pick up a stranger to watch them.  
> -Some public play, but most of the scene occurs within a private room.  
> -Temporary orgasm denial  
> -Mid-scene renegotiation to include light bondage. All parties consent.  
> -Jon gives the stranger a blow job. No condom is used.

Martin comes back from the bathroom and there’s someone in his seat.

There’s someone sitting in his seat, talking to Jon, and Jon is _smiling_ at him. Martin feels an emotion well up in him - something mostly unfamiliar, akin to but not quite like jealousy. Martin stops and watches them for a minute, watches as the other man looks Jon up and down, flashes him with a wink and a grin. It’s clear that Jon’s being chatted up.

But then again, this is basically a swingers club. And after leaving Jon alone, what could Martin expect? That is the point of the evening, after all - find a guy who’s interested in watching them. Interested in Jon is a good start.

Martin metaphorically girdles his loins and walks over.

“Sorry I was gone a while, sweetheart.” Martin says. Jon looks up at him and Martin drops a kiss onto his upturned face. It’s not to drive the point home, except in the ways where it is very much to drive the point home.

The other man reads the situation quickly. “I’ve taken your seat, haven’t I?” He says.

“That’s okay.” Martin tells him. Then he turns to Jon. “Up.”

Jon obeys without hesitation, his bottom lip caught in his teeth. Martin slides into his empty seat and then pulls Jon down into his lap. Jon gives a little bit of a huff at that, but Martin knows he loves it. Half the time their cuddle sessions are just new exciting ways Jon has found to use Martin as a climbing frame.

Martin slips his up and under Jon’s shirt. There’s not a lot of bare skin under there, what with his binder, but Martin makes do with what he finds. It makes Jon squirm in his lap.

“So, uh, I’m Will.” The other guy says.

“I’m Martin.” Martin adds.

“So, Jon was saying it was his- your first time here?” Will says.

“Got an eye for first timers then?” Martin says with a smile.

The other man is surprisingly easy to talk to. He’s somewhat good looking - not model worthy, not as nice as Martin personally thinks Jon is. But no one is batting out of their league here.

“No, but - and excuse me for being blunt - are you looking for a third?” Will says. “I’m down, but if that’s not what you’re looking for, I can go.”

“I guess?” Martin says. 

“We’re looking for someone to watch us.” Jon elaborates. “Maybe give us some direction. If you’re interested?”

“I’m listening.” Will says. He leans in slightly. “What exactly would that entail? Would I be taking a purely passive role?”

“You can tell us what to do to each other.” Martin says.

“Within reason.” Jon adds. “There are some things I’m not comfortable with. You can touch yourself if you like, and if we’re done before you are, you can have my mouth.”

“Or we can just be a warm up if you prefer.” Martin says. There are plenty of people here tonight. Not enough that it’s outright busy, but enough that Will could probably find someone else who would actually have sex with him. What they want from him could easily just be the starter before a main course with someone else. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Martin removes his hands from beneath Jon’s shirt and rubs them up and down Jon’s thighs instead. The man in his lap squirms. It just so happens that that has the added effect of making Jon’s legs spread that much wider. Purely a coincidence, he’s sure.

“Does he know that, uh-” Martin says to Jon, because while he’s technically asking Jon, the question is directed at Will. But there’s no easy way to bring up the fact that Jon is trans without the possibility of outing him, if that hasn’t happened already.

Not that they could get through this as planned without outing Jon. Not if Jon’s getting anywhere close to naked.

“I know he’s trans.” Will says. Martin feels Jon tense on his lap. “Uh, the bracelet you’re wearing. I noticed it after I sat down.”

It’s a small thing - just a collection of five beads in pink, blue, and white. Subtle enough, but there if you look for it. A little flag. There’s one in the bi colours stacked above it. Jon has an ace one too, but he didn’t wear it tonight. Said something about people taking it the wrong way.

“Is it going to be an issue?” Jon asks.

“No, no.” Will says. “I’d have extracted myself without bringing it up if that were the case. This isn’t one of the clubs that’s only for gay men - I’ve heard they can be a bit transphobic. But if anyone gives you a hard time over it, come and find me, or someone else you’ve played with before. We’ll sort them out.”

“Oh, that’s..” Jon begins.

Martin’s not sure how to take ‘sorting them out.’ This isn’t one of the rougher bits of town, but it isn’t sunshine and rainbows everywhere either. So instead he says “Close knit group, huh?”

“I’d say we’re like family, but…”

“Most families don’t engage in copious amounts of fucking?” Jon says dryly.

“Exactly.” Will says. “Uh, I didn’t seek you out _because_ you’re trans, just so we’re clear. I didn’t see the bracelet until I sat down. So, I’m interested, but not-”

Martin puts the poor man out of his misery. “I can show you how pretty he is when he comes, if you still need convincing?”

“Oh, I don’t need convincing, but I’m also not going to stop you.”

Martin gives a wicked grin. His fingers dip beneath Jon’s waistband and he lets his fingers feel out the path of Jon’s treasure trail as it leads down towards his underwear.

“Martin!” Jon says, a little belatedly. Martin pauses for a moment, giving Jon enough time to safe word, or pull his hand away. But it never comes.

So he slips his hand into Jon’s underwear. Martin gives Jon’s outer lips a couple of strokes before he dips between them. Jon shudders as Martin takes his clit between two fingers. His body relaxes some as he slumps back against Martin. As Martin continues, shaky breathes morph into something approaching moans.

“Careful, love,” Martin says, loud enough for Will to hear, but soft enough that it doesn’t project to the rest of the room, “you need to keep it down, or everyone’s going to know what I’m doing to you over here.”

Jon moves to cover his mouth with a hand. Like Martin would allow that. Martin uses his free arm to pull it away. He clasps Jon’s hand and draws it back down into the hold he had before around Jon’s waist.

“Now, now, did you think I’d allow that?” Martin says.

“Does he like to be fingered?” Will asks.

“He does.” Martin answers for Jon, because Jon is rather preoccupied being quiet.

“You should finger him, then.” 

Martin’s a little miffed, because he was about to move onto that. But it appears great minds think alike. Although he supposes they have told this man to tell them what to do. Jon would probably quite like to be fingered right now, though, and that’s the most important driving force.

So he slips his fingers down lower, repositions his hand so that Jon can grind down into his palm. And then he inserts a few fingers into Jon to explore his insides.

It’s not a good angle for getting at his G-spot. It’s not really a very good angle at all with how Martin’s wrist starts aching almost immediately. But Jon makes this wonderful, bitten-back moan when Martin does it. That gives Martin the resilience to carry on.

Martin shushes him. “You need to keep quiet darling, or else everyone in here is going to know what I’m doing to you.”

“Sorry, sorry, I- ah, _fuck_.” Jon tries to apologize, but Martin changes the angle of his fingers at a critical moment and Jon just can’t keep the words coming.

“You’re such a whore.” Martin says, and Jon whimpers.

“Is he now?” Will asks.

“A total slut.” Martin confirms. “He doesn’t get worked up nearly this quickly when there aren’t people watching him.”

Jon makes another soft wordless noise. His hips shift as he ruts down rhythmically into Martin’s palm. Then comes a moment when all he can do is mewl as he clenches down on Martin fingers.

“Oh,” Martin says, “was that an orgasm? I thought you knew better than to come without permission.”

“No, no.” Jon says. “But I’m so close. Can I - _oooh_! Can please come?”

Martin quirks an eyebrow at the man across the table, making it clear whose choice it is. Will leans in a little closer.

“You’ve been a good slut.” He says. “You can come now.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Jon cries, and then he’s falling apart. It’s not as subtle as what went on before, and they do turn a couple of heads. But they’re far from the best entertainment in here - a brief glance around the room reveals a couple having sex against the wall, someone with their head held down in their partner’s lap, and numerous people who appear to have misplaced all of their clothes.

“I’ve got to say,” Will says, “that was very convincing.”

“Will you join us in a private room for a bit more fun, then?” Martin asks, emboldened.

“It would be my honour.” The other man answers.

“Can you walk, love?” Martin asks Jon.

Jon barks out a laugh. “You’re going to have to make me come several more times until we get to _that_ stage.”

The three of them get up. Martin and Jon follow the other man towards the private rooms. It hasn’t been so long that Martin’s forgotten how to get to them, but he also trusts a regular to get them there more than the map laid out in his memory.

Several of the rooms appear to be already occupied, but there are a couple of open doors. They end up in a room different to the one they were shown in the tour, but it’s laid out exactly the same. Jon closes and locks the door behind the three of them.

The moment of silence is broken by a series of sharp cracks and yelps from the room next door.

“I bet you can make him louder than that.” Will challenges Martin.

“I know I can.” Martin replies. “What happens next?”

“Next, I think you should take your clothes off.” Will says.

Oh. This is actually going to be happening. Martin wasn’t really sure about that until this moment, but it’s stark clear now. Beside Martin, Jon is shifting his weight from left foot to right foot in a way Martin knows gets his thighs rubbing together. Well, the sooner they’re naked the better. Martin goes to yank off his t-shirt, but gets interrupted.

“No need for quite that much hurry.” He’s told. “Take your time. Help each other out.”

What’s not said is ‘give me a show,’ but it’s hinted at. And, well, Martin’s planning on putting on a hell of a show with this endeavour.

Martin lets Jon help him out of his t-shirt - which was left halfway over Martin’s face. In return, he undoes the remaining buttons on Jon’s shirt and picks up Jon’s hands to attend to his cuffs. Those ones are always fiddly to undo by yourself.

Once both of them are shirtless, Martin traces a finger around the bottom hem of Jon’s binder. It’s cropped higher than the ones he usually wears, but that may just mean Jon’s running low on clean ones. Martin wouldn’t know - Jon insists on washing them by hand and while that presumably makes them last longer, it also means Martin can’t keep a mental tally of how many Jon has left when he loads up the washing machine.

“Do you want this on or off?” Martin asks. He makes it clear that this question is aimed at Jon, because despite the third person in the room, Jon is the only one to have a decision in that.

“Off, if you would.” Jon says.

“Of course, love.” Martin replies.

Martin helps pull the thing off Jon. Apparently the deed is much easier when the person removing it doesn’t have their arms inside the damn thing. Will actually whistles when what’s beneath is revealed, but Martin can’t blame him. He came close to the same reaction the first time he saw Jon’s chest.

“Like what you see?” Martin asks. He rubs over Jon’s back, knowing it’s probably a little sore. There are other parts of Jon’s anatomy that are also probably sore, but Martin knows better than to touch without asking permission first.

“Answer me honestly, is that thing magic?” The man deadpans.

“Yes.” Jon replies.

Martin snorts. While he has no doubt that there are artifacts out there that can alter the shape of your body - that all sounds delightfully fleshy - he’s also pretty sure nothing as convenient and non-gruesome as a supernatural chest binder exists.

“Do you like to be touched?” Will asks. “There?”

“Sometimes.” Jon replies. “You can call them my tits.”

“Do you want your tits played with?”

“I do.” Jon answers. “Please.”

“You heard the man!” Will says to Martin.

Martin pulls Jon up against him, leaning him back slightly so that the third man gets a good view. Putting Jon out on display. He cups Jon’s chest from beneath, lifting his breasts before letting them drop. Martin does it again, but doesn’t repeat the action further - it’s fun to watch, he knows, but it also annoys Jon a bit if he does it too many times.

Instead, Martin swishes his thumbs over the swell of Jon’s chest until he locates Jon’s nipples. Jon gasps when he finds them, and Martin latches on, giving each one a sharp tug, which makes Jon squirm.

“You like having your nipples played with too?” Will asks.

“Yes.” Jon replies.

“Whore.”

That makes Jon moan outright. Martin repositions them slightly so that he can wedge a leg between Jon’s thighs. Jon takes advantage of it, grinding down greedily.

“You’re just begging to be fucked.” Martin tells Jon.

Jon’s head tilts back to look at him. His jaw is already slack and his eyes a little glassy. It’s not all the way to the relaxed fucked-out look he’ll hopefully have later, but it’s well on the way. Martin leans down to kiss him and Jon responds in something that’s near desperation. He begins to grind down properly on Martin’s legs.

“Fucking hell…” Will says when Jon makes a particularly pretty moan as his nipples are stroked. “Why are you two still wearing clothes?”

That makes the two of them break apart, although Jon does come back for another peck. Martin helpfully reaches around and undoes Jon’s trousers for him.

“You’re still wearing clothes too.” Jon points out.

“Maybe it’s about time we all got naked?” Martin suggests.

It appears to be the right suggestion, because the three of them give up on trying to be seductive at that point and just opt for the quickest manner of stripping available. Already most of the way there, Jon and Martin finish the job first and turn to watch their third.

Jon might not be overly concerned with how the other man looks - Will isn’t in here because Jon found him particularly attractive or anything - but Martin still looks. He’s a red-blooded gay man, for goodness’ sake, he can still look even if he isn’t planning on sampling.

Will turns out to be distinctly average. Not unattractive, but not any extremes. He isn’t as thin as Jon, nor are his muscles that well defined, even if he has less flab than Martin. But he’s still nice to look at - a few years ago Martin would have been all over a guy like that in a bar if he showed Martin a dribble of attention - right up until the point he realised he could land someone as out of his league as Jon.

The bulge in Will’s boxers is sizable, but Martin doesn't have the time to map out its size before that last piece of clothing is whipped off. Martin was expecting a penis, but he wasn’t expecting a pierced one.

Jon gives a low whistle.

“How much did that…” Jon asks.

“Cost?” Will asks. “Not as much as you think. Hurt? A whole bunch.”

“Hey Martin?” Jon asks.

“No.” Martin replies, because there’s no chance he’s letting someone stick a needle through his dick.

“Even if-”

“No.”

Jon flops himself backwards onto the bed. He places his feet on the mattress very carefully, such that his legs fall open and his hips cant up. One arm lies stretched up under his head and the other rests carefully over his stomach.

“What happens now?” Jon asks.

“Now, I think you need to be eaten out until you scream.”

It was directed to Jon, but Martin knows it’s really an instruction for him. So he lies down on the bed on his stomach, urging Jon’s legs up over his shoulders. Martin could just dive right in, but he hasn’t been told to do that explicitly, so he takes his time instead.

Each of Jon’s thighs receive a series of kisses which rise steadily and steadily higher. It’s a pity Jon heals so quickly, because Martin would really like to see the purple splotches of the bruises he left a week ago, but they’ve already long since faded.

Jon hips buck upwards as he tries to urge Martin into position.

Martin does move up to the apex of Jon’s legs, but he doesn’t give in to Jon’s urging. Or at least not entirely. He does slip his middle finger into Jon’s cunt - still slick and open from before, although now Martin has an angle he can use to get much deeper inside him.

Martin employs the index and ring fingers of that same hand to spread Jon’s lips (which is more than a little fiddly to achieve). Then, finally, he gives Jon a single broad lick from his middle finger right up to the hard bud of Jon’s clit.

Jon’s breath stutters. With his face pressed between Jon’s legs and the taste of his cunt on his tongue, Martin can’t really see what’s going on around him, but he can hear _other_ sounds. Sounds that he isn’t making and which he doubts are coming from Jon.

“Please…” Jon murmurs.

Martin gives him another lick. Then after a pause, a further one. He listens as the noises Jon makes go from raggard to little whines. But if Jon has to beg for permission, today it is not Martin who will be granting him permission.

“Hmm?” Will says. “What was that.”

Jon latches onto that. “Please.” He says. “Please, I want more.”

“Go on.” Will says to Martin. Martin half expects to feel fingers brush his shoulder in encouragement, but of course, he doesn’t have permission to touch either of them. Just to watch. To instruct.

At last, Martin latches onto Jon’s clit, drawing it to rest between his lips. He pushes a second, then a third finger into Jon as he flicks his tongue over the end of Jon’s clit. Jon begins to fall apart beneath him. He doesn’t try to stay quiet this time.

“Oh.” Jon cries. “Like that. Just like that. I - oh _fuck_.”

Martin keeps on doing exactly as he already was. It’s very tempting to rut against the mattress in response to the noises Jon is making, but he holds back. There’ll be time enough for him to get off later.

They carry on like that for a few more minutes. Martin may be doing exactly what’s needed to make Jon come, but it’s not like that’s instant. It’s a gradual progression as he gets worked higher and higher. Eventually, though, Jon starts to coast close to the edge.

“Martin, Martin please.” Jon says. “I’m going to- _can_ I come?”

Martin pulls away. “I’m not sure it’s me you need to ask.” He says.

Then, because Jon absolutely does not deserve a break, he dives right back in. One of Martin’s hands is still three fingers deep, pistoning in and out of Jon, but the other he rests on Jon’s thigh, feeling the muscles there bunch and tremble.

Martin hears Jon shift, perhaps to look at the other man in the room. “Can I? _Please?_ ” Jon says. “God, I am so close…”

Martin knows _he'd_ give in to that begging.

“I don’t know.” The other man replies. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“I need to.” Jon says. “Please, please! I _need_ to come.”

“Then you should have asked _me_ first.” Will says. “You upset me back then, and now you’re going to have to wait.”

His tone makes even Martin shiver. Whoever this guy is, he has some pretty peak dom energy, and the voice is down pat. Martin suspects he has a fair bit of experience under his belt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jon whimpers, even as he clenches down on Martin’s fingers. Martin knows Jon’s body, knows that there’s no way the man below him will be able to starve off orgasm if his body keeps receiving attention like this.

Martin pulls back and says “he’s right on the edge. If I keep going at him like this…”

“Back off some for now, then.” Will tells him. “This little slut doesn’t deserve to come quite so soon.

The air is cool on Martin’s damp chin when he pulls away. He keeps his fingers sheathed inside Jon, because it wouldn’t be fair to deprive him of everything. A little strand of spittle connecting Martin’s mouth to Jon’s swollen looking clit stretches and breaks as the distance between them grows.

He looks up to a view of Will stroking himself. Not enough really to get off just yet (as far as Martin is aware), but enough to keep Will nicely hard while he watches. It’s a pretty nice looking cock as they go. Sizable - possibly more so than Martin’s. There’s more than an ounce of Martin that considers asking if he’d rather have a more active role - either them taking one of Jon’s holes each or getting Will to open him up so that Martin could get fucked while he does Jon.

But that isn’t what they negotiated. Either as a triad or beforehand, when Jon and Martin discussed picking up a third person. But Martin can still chalk that down as an idea for another time. And if they don’t put this man off too much, and if he didn’t try to pick Jon up because he’s heavily into scarification, he might agree to scene with one or both of them in the future.

Martin busies himself sucking a nice mark into the inside of Jon’s thigh instead. Hopefully Will won’t notice if it begins to fade away supernaturally quickly. He keeps his fingers tucked inside Jon, crooking them in search of that lovely sensitive spot he knows is in there. Martin knows when he finds it, because Jon’s back arches and he cries out.

It’s too pretty a noise not to give Jon some more attention. Martin noses his way back into Jon’s slit, feeling his path with his lips and tongue more than by using his eyes. He licks over Jon’s folds, heading back to his clit each time before circling back outwards. Jon’s moans begin to increase in volume before he starts begging again.

This time he knows it isn’t Martin he needs to ask.

“Please can I?” He pleads. “Please let me come.”

“You’ve done very well.” Will says. “You can come now.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Jon cries. One of his hands finds Martin's head, the nails scratching along his scalp. “I’m going to - oh God! I’m going to…” He just breaks off into a wordless noise after that as he comes.

Martin has just enough time to align everything so that Jon can rub against his tongue as he comes. With how hard his hips buck up into Martin, trying for more active participation in Jon’s orgasm probably isn’t a good idea.

Afterwards, Jon sinks down into the bed. Martin gives his shoulders a little roll to limber them up after the way he’s been holding them.

“Still up for getting fucked, babe?” Martin asks.

“Yes, just give me a moment.” Jon replies.

“Of course.” Martin says. He catches one of Jon’s hands and raises it to kiss the back of it.

“Just so you know,” the other man adds, “that was _very_ hot.”

Jon laughs. He tries to sit up, but Martin ends up hauling him halfways to the sitting position he ends up in.

“How do you want us?” Jon asks.

“Both of you facing me?” Will suggests. “Then Martin can take you from behind. Actually, do you mind if I get on the bed too? Otherwise I’m just standing here and...”

“I don’t mind.” Jon says.

“Get over here.” Martin adds.

Anyway, it’s not like there’s a chair for Will to sit on. There wouldn’t be much room for one - the room is small and the bed far too large for it. It’s not like these private rooms are exactly made with observers in mind - perhaps the club should consider installing some windows.

Come to think of it, an open door could serve the same purpose. But that also could mean ‘come and join us.’ There’s a difference between an invitation to observe and an invitation to participate.

The bed dips as Will sits down, but then he jumps straight back up again. “Should I grab you guys a condom first? Wait - you guys are together, right? Do you-”

“They’re not necessary,” Jon says, “but I don’t like people coming inside without one. I don’t like the mess.”

“Your choice.” Martin says.

“I don’t think you need one, then.” Will says, sitting back down. “A slut like you deserves to be covered in the come of all the men he pleases.”

Martin’s behind Jon, so he can’t see his facial expression at that comment, can’t see if Jon’s biting his lip. But he can see the way Jon’s grip tightens on his own thigh. How he shifts a little at the idea.

“That sounds great.” Martin says. “Let’s do that.”

It’s pretty easy to get into Jon from this position. It’s just a matter of lifting his hips a little and then all Martin has to do is guide himself in.

Jon leans over, forwards. It does mean Martin can get nice and deep into him - something that Jon seems to be enjoying from the way he moans - but that’s not what Martin has in mind.

“No, no, sit up.” Martin says. He pulls on Jon’s shoulders until he’s back upright. “Don’t forget you’re on display.”

“Martin!” Jon says, but fully sheathed inside him, Martin can feel the way he clenches down. It’s almost too much.

“That’s it.” Will says. “Let me see you. I know you want every eye in the room on you.”

Jon moans, long and low. Ever so slowly, his hand drifts downwards, and while Martin can’t see exactly what’s going on, it would be a fair shot to assume that hand is heading for Jon’s clit. When it reaches its destination, Jon’s back arches into his touch.

“Dirty boy.” Will says. “I never told you you were allowed to do that.”

“Is he touching himself?” Martin asks.

“I guess this greedy slut just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” Will says.

“If only we had some rope or cuffs.” Martin says. “Then we could stop his wandering hands.

“I have a belt.” Will suggests. “That is, if you’re both agreeable with it?”

“That would work.” Martin says. Jon just thrusts out his wrists.

The belt turns out to be a woven fabric one rather than a nice strip of leather. While the aesthetic isn’t there like it would be with leather, the woven material means no holes are necessary. The prong just slips through the weave at the necessary point, allowing for a very precise fit. That allows it to slip around Jon’s wrists in a fashion that is not overly tight, but still secure.

Will takes the tail end of the belt and uses it to pull Jon’s arms out and away from his body. It stops him from being able to touch himself.

Martin had slowed his thrusts while the belt went on. But afterwards, he really starts putting his back into fucking Jon, snapping his hips as he drives in deep. Martin is fixated in watching Will. He isn’t stroking himself fast enough to stay in rhythm with Martin, but now it’s a race to see which one of them is going to come first.

“Can I touch your tits?” Martin asks Jon.

“Go for it.” Jon says. It takes him a few goes to get all the words out though, because he keeps having to stop to moan.

Martin takes two large handfuls of Jon’s chest. He captures Jon’s nipples between middle and ring fingers and squeezes the firm little buds hard. Jon groans and he clenches down tight. Martin has to pull out swiftly, lest he does the one thing Jon explicitly doesn’t want him to do.

With a little twist and a push, Jon ends up flat on his back again, blinking in surprise with how fast it happened. Martin shifts a bit too, so that his cock hovers over Jon’s chin. Martin’s hand flies over his cock, the way eased by the slick Jon has left on him.

He doesn’t last long. A little bead of precome drops from the head of his cock onto Jon’s lips, and the sight of Jon’s little pink tongue coming to swipe it away makes Martin lose it. He paints Jon’s lips and cheeks with his come.

“Oh, aren’t you pretty.” Will says.

He’s still sat on the bed, on the other side of Jon to Martin. He’s touching himself too, albeit much slower than Martin was. He hasn’t come yet, and come to think of it, Jon’s probably pretty worked up again.

“I do believe you were offered his mouth.” Martin says. He slides a couple of fingers into Jon’s mouth and is thrilled when Jon begins sucking with no prompting. He might even be able to taste himself on them. “It’s yours if you want it.”

Martin removes his fingers from Jon’s mouth and Jon’s lips stay open in invitation. Martin moves his hand behind Jon’s head to cradle it, angling his skull in a manner that will be more comfortable if the other man does decide to shove his cock down Jon’s throat.

“How could I say no?” Will says. He moves inwards.

It would be easy to just guide Jon’s mouth to that cock, but Jon sticks his tongue out to play with the piercing in the head. Martin’s pretty sure it’s a prince Albert. Belatedly, Martin realises he probably should have got Will to put on a condom, but then again, Jon hasn’t had so much as a cold in years. Martin doubts he can get sick anymore, so the risk of potential STIs is very low.

Jon really does seem intrigued by the little ring Will has looping through the hole of his piercing and his urethra. And from the noises Will is making as Jon uses his tongue to shift it back and forth, Will is enjoying it too. It does make quite a nice picture, but the thought of a needle going through his dick is more than enough to dissuade Martin from getting one himself.

After a little while teasing, Jon takes the penis properly into his mouth. Martin finds he can flex his wrist a little to get Jon’s head to bob up and down and take Will a little deeper. Then, because Jon is being so good for them, he decides Jon needs a little attention too.

It’s a little bit of a stretch to get his free hand to Jon’s cunt. And it’s his non-dominant hand too. Martin prays he still has enough co-ordination to get Jon off.

With his mouth full, Jon can’t give Martin any direction on what to do. It’s lucky then that his body language is so expressive. Martin doesn’t bother trying to shove any fingers into Jon, he just finds his clit and rubs.

Martin listens to the way Jon moans and feels how his hips buck up into the touch. Jon’s hands, still bound, curl into fists so tight they’re white-knuckled. Then his legs begin to tremble too.

“Come on, darling, I want to see you come for me.” Martin says. Jon takes it as the permission he needs, and moments later he’s groaning loudly as he comes. “That’s it, lovely boy.”

Will swears, and he pulls back to add to the mess Martin’s already left on Jon’s face. It isn’t fast enough though, judging from the sticky white Martin catches a glimpse of on Jon’s tongue.

The three of them lie there for a moment until Will asks “What do you like for aftercare? Do you want me to stay?”

“You were part of the scene.” Martin points out. “You deserve to take part in aftercare too. Cuddles, water, and a snack usually go down quite well.”

“I tend to want to get dressed again pretty quickly.” Jon asks.

“How about I leave, but only to get us something to eat and drink.” Will says. “What do you want?”

“You really don’t have to…” Martin begins.

“I insist.”

“Water.” Jon says at the same time Martin makes a request for chocolate. Okay, so it’s clear who has the healthier diet between them. But also, you can’t really go wrong with water and chocolate for aftercare. Assuming no one is vegan or allergic to the chocolate.

“Water and chocolate, then.” The man says. “I’ll be back soon.”

“And wet wipes.” Jon adds. 

“And wet wipes.” He repeats.

Martin supposes it probably would be quite rude for Jon to just wipe himself off on the sheets. Other people might want this room tonight.

Will unlocks the door and leaves. Jon waits a few moments before he sits up and starts reaching for his clothing. Martin keeps a critical eye on him and makes sure he doesn’t run off with anything that isn’t his - Jon might have a fondness for wearing Martin’s clothes, but there’s no way Martin will fit in the shirt or jacket Jon wore here earlier in the evening.

“Okay?” Martin asks.

“I am.” Jon replies. “I’m not sure it’s exactly what I had planned in my head, but I definitely enjoyed myself. Was that all okay with you?”

“Yes.” Martin says.

“I know there was maybe more contact between me and him than we maybe initially planned, so..”

“I expected to be jealous.” Martin says. “But I wasn’t. I’m not. I mean, I’m not going to be disappointed if we never do anything involving another person or people again, but so long as we’re together in it, I can still enjoy myself.”

“You know you’re enough for me, right?” Jon says.

“I know,” Martin replies, “but I also want to spoil you. I’m not seeing this sort of thing as our go to, but for a night out…”

“Beats karaoke?” Jon suggests.

“Don’t you _ever_ tarnish the good name of karaoke!” Martin says.

Jon doesn’t get a retort in, because at that moment the chocolate and water arrives. Will also arrives holding it all, but that’s beside the point.

“Choo choo, the snack train is here.” He says.

“Oh God, he’s a dork.” Jon says. “How did I manage to pick up two dorks?”

“Excuse you,” Martin says, “I am adorable.”

“The two things are not mutually exclusive.” Jon points out.

“We’re both adorable, thanks.” Will says. “Have some wet wipes and you might be able to join us in the adorable club. I think being adorable and having your face covered in come probably are mutually exclusive.”

“I am never adorable.” Jon says with scorn, but he does take the proffered wipes and begins to clean himself up.

“We agree to disagree then.” Martin says.

The chocolates turn out to be a brand Martin doesn’t recognise, but they’re still of a decent quality. Enough that Martin goes back for a second, then a third, before Will just tips the remaining ones into Martin’s hands when it’s clear it’s only Martin still eating them.

“You don’t have to say yes,” Will starts, “but if you come here again and I’m around, I’d be glad to scene with one or both of you.”

Martin looks over at Jon, who nods.

“I highly doubt this will be our last time here.” Jon says.


End file.
